


Remembrance

by Angel_Demon_Princess



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Avenger Bucky Barnes, Avenger Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky is called Jamie, Everyone's mad at Bucky, Female Bucky Barnes, Flashbacks, Gen, Give it a try, Hurt Bucky Barnes, I hope you like it, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm not sure why I posted it just yet, Implied/Referenced Torture, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, No one trusts Bucky, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve Rogers, Scars, Some of it doesn't follow canon strictly, Sorry Not Sorry, The Winter Soldier - Freeform, a but AU, and Avengers accepting her to tower, but also Bucky, but some minor plot changes, clint didn't leave the team, like female Bucky, set in the same universe, so good luck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 14:01:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7717549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_Demon_Princess/pseuds/Angel_Demon_Princess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamie "Bucky" Barnes is the Winter Soldier, an assassin, a tool for war, a broken weapon with no purpose. Her mind has been broken and wiped and she's not the same girl she was seventy years ago.</p>
<p>Steve Rogers has finally found his best friend, and she's not exactly the same. After seventy years, is there any chance to find his Jamie underneath the Winter Soldier?</p>
<p>The Avengers do not trust her, and would rather have her dead or in jail. But their Captain is desperate, and the same assassin who tried to kill them all a few weeks ago is now living in their Tower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for this fandom, and my first fic on Ao3. I hope you enjoy reading it, and I'd love some constructive criticism or any suggestions or thoughts you have!
> 
> Please read this below!!  
> Some notes: BUCKY IS A GIRL. That is the most important one, and there will be some minor, very minor, changes in canon to better suit my plot. For instance, the Avengers are taking in female Bucky, and they have not broken up like they had at the end of the movie. Also, CLINT NEVER LEFT THE TEAM, and there will be no, if any, mention of his family. SAM WILSON IS PART OF THE AVENGERS, and will be living in the Tower with them. I don't think there's any other important notes, so for now, I hope you enjoy the story!

Jamie didn't understand.

Captain America—no, Steve, she reminded herself, Steve Rogers—stood in front of her as a shield. He protected her from his friends, though he had no reason nor need to do so. In fact, it would have been far easier for him to stand to the side and let them kill her or do whatever they planned on doing. Steve would not benefit by helping her. If he asked, she could not provide him with any information, even if he tortured her for it. She knew of nothing but her mission, and her Master—or was it former Master?—made sure she could not remember anything about her past. If he asked her to kill someone for him she could not disobey, her programming wouldn't allow it. He had the upper hand, because she was simply a tool and tools did what they were told. 

She could not escape, and she no reason to try, because there was nothing left for her. She would not resist if he tried to kill her because she wasn't allowed to fight back without orders. She wouldn't try to kill anyone because she had no reason and no mission to fulfill. 

Steve would not gain anything by protecting her, not even her loyalty. She had no emotions, or at least she didn't understand them. All Jamie knew was what she was, and that was the Winter Soldier, and the Winter Soldier was an assassin. An assassin was a tool, and that was all Jamie was and ever would be. 

Steve confused her—he didn't want the others to kill her and he fought for her life. Why would he do that, and especially if she tried to kill him before? The others were right; she was emotionless. She killed people without a second thought and was programmed to obey any orders she received. If they asked her to kill someone, she would. If they asked her to fight, she would. If they asked her to surrender, she would. She was simply a tool and a weapon.

A loud and angry voice pierced her thoughts, startling her. One of them—the Man in Iron, or something like that—was yelling and making exaggerated hand motions towards her. He, in dark jeans and a nerdy red t-shirt with a jacket hastily thrown over, reminded her of someone she used to know. She couldn't remember when or where or why or how or who, but she knew it was someone important. She tried to remember, to place a face and a name, but her thoughts were scrambled and slipping and sliding in her head.

Steve snapped back at the man, a glare on his face. She noticed he took another step forward, shielding her with his body.

“She's a killer! A ruthless, heartless assassin, who, given half a chance, would put a bullet though our skulls without blinking! She murdered so many innocent people before, how could you possibly protect her?” The man demanded, a pleading tone in his voice. She could see he hated her with every fiber of his body, and that he would gladly see her die, by his own hands or another's.

Steve stiffened, his hands curled into fists. “Tony, please,” he begged. “Jamie wouldn't do that if they hadn't messed her up like that! You have to understand she's been brainwashed and controlled. Just like Clint was!”

The Hawk, who's name must have been “Clint,” strode forward to stand next to the man from before (Tony, her mind supplied, that's what Steve called him). She instinctively took stock of his weapons: a quiver on his back, and his bow was out of sight, but she saw gun holsters and he twirled a knife in his hand. Jamie tensed at the sight, unconsciously shifting her weight to face him and her eyes glued to his movements. He leveled his glare on her, and she stared back without blinking.

Without breaking eye contact he said, “She's not the same girl from seventy years ago, Steve. You can't deny how many people she's killed and how much she's changed. You can't protect her from the truth.” Suddenly his face hardened, and the knife in his hands stopped twirling and was gripped firmly. “And you can't compare her to me, because we are nothing alike.”

Before Steve could reply, the red-haired women stalked forward gracefully to stand next to Clint. Jamie could instantly tell that they were partners, probably for a very long time, from the way Clint turned his body slightly in order to face her and how comfortably she rested her hand on his shoulder. She also analyzed the women quickly: she was a trained assassin and seductress, and specialized in hand to hand combat. From the way she carried herself, she wholeheartedly trusted in her abilities and those of her teammates.

When she spoke, her voice was as smooth as honey and sharp as knives. “Steve, you know we trust you, but you can't deny the truth in our words. She is uncontrollable and dangerous. We don't know if or when she could snap, let alone wether or not she even remembers you!” Her movements were wary as she gestured to the others but her eyes honest when she looked beseechingly at Steve.

Jamie felt like she was doused in an icy lake at her words. ‘Remember you,’ she thought and felt a dull pang in her chest. Steve had told her that they used to be friends, best friends, seventy years ago. He told her that they enlisted in the army together and lived next door to each other during their childhood. She didn't know if he was lying or if he was telling the truth, because her memories were wiped and she couldn't tell right from wrong and up from down at this point. She didn't know if she could trust him, or if she even knew how. 

The currently-not-so-green-giant was standing between Steve and Tony, one hand on each of their chests to keep them from doing something irrational. He wasn't half as threatening when he was a human, but he had a peaceful and calm presence which was working very well at the moment. Jamie thought on what she already knew about the man, which wasn't too much: he was a genius scientist and doctor, not a violent person by nature but very different by science. She recalled that he turned himself into the Hulk during a experiment, and that he couldn't exactly control the monster very well (though her information was outdated, because he was clearly much better than HYDRA had given him credit for).

The man in question was talking both Steve and Tony down, in a low voice that managed to carry to where she stood. He said, “Jamie, though she does have blood on her hands, was not alone responsible for her actions. HYDRA manipulated and brainwashed her, just like Loki did to Clint and how Natasha was raised,” the two assassins were subdued by the doctor’s statement and stared at the floor. “The blame is not hers to bear any more than it is yours. We should give her the benefit of the doubt, though you,” he looked at Tony and the black panther, “more than anyone, have reason to hate her. What do you say?”

Jamie shivered, feeling a dull ache rise behind her eyes and an oncoming migraine reared its ugly head. She knew she was missing something important; it was on the tip of her tongue. This memory, like all of her others, was so close and yet so far out of reach. 

She felt a weird feeling rise in her stomach, like she was going to be sick. She knew, from a time long past, that humans often felt guilty for bad times in their lives. Is this how guilt felt, she wondered? She didn’t understand this emotion, or any emotion, not after HYDRA. Why did she feel remorse for something she didn't remember?

“Fine.” The word was dripping in malice, like the syllables were ripped from Tony’s throat and forcefully spoken. He glared at her with hate and pain, his mouth etched in a scowl. “She can stay in the Tower, but only for a week. If, by then, we don't find her to be “innocent,” or whatever,” he sneered at the word, “then we'll deal with her how we should have days ago! And then, Captain, you won't be able to protect her at all, understood?”

Steve stiffened, looking like he'd rather deck Tony right there and then, but nodded in agreement. “You won't regret it, Tony.” He promised, and then turned and smiled at Jamie. The sight reminded her so much of a small boy she knew from seventy years ago, with the same shy smile and hopeful dream of a better world. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, she was assaulted by the ghost of a memory. The world went dark as her feet buckled underneath her and she collapsed to the floor. She dimly heard a voice yelling her name and someone running to catch her, but she slammed against the cool floor and was ripped from this time and into another.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear what you think! Please leave a comment or kudos, and should I continue or trash it?


End file.
